Absolute Menaces
Three days later, Hermione was standing in front of the Charms classroom, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she waited for Fred and George to finally show up. It had been a long, frustrating day, and she was already in a foul mood from the argument she’d had with Ron earlier, and it didn’t help that she knew exactly what the twins had been up to. Their prank on Harry had spread through the school like wildfire, and she’d already heard about it from Harry himself.
She could feel the heat in her chest, the lingering anger over the whole situation. She understood their sense of humour, but it was one thing to prank someone in good fun, and another entirely to mess with their friends in such an unpredictable way. Harry had gotten caught in the middle of one of their pranks, and while it hadn’t done him any serious harm, the fact that they hadn’t even considered the possible consequences made her blood boil.
Hermione was snapped from her thoughts when the door to the classroom finally swung open. Fred and George walked in, as usual, with a look of mischief dancing in their eyes.
“We’re here, Granger!” Fred called out cheerfully, as if they had just arrived at a fun social gathering instead of a tutoring session.
Hermione’s gaze immediately hardened, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm the irritation bubbling up inside her. They had been late yet again, which was annoying in itself, but the real issue was far more serious.
“Three minutes late,” Hermione began, her voice cool but tightly controlled. “And I’m assuming you’ve both been up to something—again.”
George winked, and Fred merely grinned wider. “What can we say? We like to make an entrance,” Fred said, moving toward his seat and taking his time as if he had all the time in the world.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you did to Harry,” Hermione said, her voice dropping as she eyed them both, her frustration starting to boil over. “I know you pranked him during breakfast this morning, and you can’t tell me you didn’t do it on purpose.”
Fred and George exchanged a glance, and for a brief second, their expressions flickered with something almost like guilt. But then George leaned against the desk, a smirk returning to his face. “Harry’s a tough one, Hermione. We knew he’d be fine.”
“Right,” Hermione snapped, her temper finally getting the better of her. “Fine? He ended up with half his breakfast in his lap and a huge mess in the Gryffindor common room. How is that ‘fine’? You didn’t even think about what might happen. What if it had been worse?”
Fred, seemingly unaffected by her anger, tried to deflect with one of his usual jokes. “Oh, come on, Hermione. You know we’ve got the best intentions. Just a little harmless fun.”
“Harmless?” Hermione’s voice was sharp now, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “This isn’t harmless. You two are constantly crossing the line. You didn’t just prank him—you humiliated him. “
Fred and George exchanged a knowing glance, their grins growing even wider as they saw the fury building in Hermione’s eyes. It was clear they were enjoying every second of her outrage. Her cheeks were flushed with anger, her eyes flashing like storm clouds on the brink of breaking, and yet they couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of triumph in seeing her so worked up. As much as Hermione had a knack for putting them in their place, there was something undeniably amusing about watching her lose her temper.
“Now, now, Granger,” Fred said, his voice dripping with mock concern. He pushed off from the desk lazily, leaning towards her with a twinkle of mischief still dancing in his eyes. “No need to get so worked up. You’ll give yourself wrinkles.” He gave her a dramatic, exaggerated frown as if he were genuinely worried about her complexion, which only served to make her glare more intense.
George, equally unfazed by her fury, followed suit, adopting a mock-serious expression. “And we’d hate to be responsible for such a tragedy,” he added, his voice taking on an exaggerated tone of faux sympathy.
Hermione’s breath hitched in frustration, her hands balling into fists at her sides. It was as though nothing she said was registering with them. She was standing there, seething with anger, and they were still playing it like a game—like it was all some grand joke. The nerve of them.
“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” Hermione demanded, her voice tightening with every word. She couldn’t hold back the heat rising in her chest. “You two think it’s hilarious to ruin someone’s day just to get a laugh?” She shook her head in disbelief, her words coming out in a sharp, biting tone. “You think this is all a big joke, don’t you?”
Fred tilted his head slightly, feigning an air of consideration as if he were weighing the question in earnest. The teasing smile on his lips never wavered. “Well, yes,” he said slowly, dragging the word out as he leaned back, clearly enjoying every second of her frustration. “Actually, it’s just a little bit funny. At least, to us.”
“Fred’s right,” George chimed in, stepping forward in sync with his twin. He gave Hermione a grin that looked far too smug for her liking. “It’s harmless fun, Hermione. Nothing too serious.” He made a dismissive gesture, as though to downplay her entire tirade.
At that, Hermione snapped. She threw her hands up in frustration, unable to contain the fire any longer. “That’s it!” she shouted, the words barely escaping her lips before her temper exploded. “I don’t know why I even bother with you two!” She could feel her heart racing as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. She took a deep breath before continuing, her voice sharp and piercing. “You act like a pair of insufferable, overgrown children, never taking anything seriously, and for what? A cheap laugh?” She shook her head in disbelief, the anger twisting in her chest. “Do you even care that Harry had to walk around the castle looking like he lost a duel with a breakfast platter?” Her voice cracked a little at the end, her frustration evident in every syllable. “Do you even care—”
“About you?” George interrupted, his voice cutting through her rant with a surprising ease. He took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them. The playful, teasing tone from before had shifted into something else—something much deeper. It was as though the light-heartedness had all but faded, replaced by a look of something more serious, more intense.
The sudden shift in his demeanour caught Hermione off guard, her words dying on her lips as she looked up into his eyes. There was something unreadable there, a glimmer of something she wasn’t entirely sure she could decipher, but it made the air around them feel heavier. He didn’t seem amused anymore.
“Yes, actually, we do,” George said, his voice quieter now, the playful lilt replaced by a softer, more earnest tone. He took another step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. His proximity suddenly felt too close, and yet, Hermione couldn’t bring herself to step away. The weight of his words hung in the air, mingling with the heavy tension that had already built up between them.
Hermione faltered for a fraction of a second, caught off guard by the raw intensity in George’s gaze. There was something about the way he was looking at her—something far too serious for their usual antics—that made her heart stutter. Her thoughts scrambled, and she quickly shook it off, her brows knitting in frustration as she fought to stay composed.
“Then why—” she began, her voice clipped, still managing to sound furious despite the storm of emotions that churned in her chest.
But before she could finish her sentence, Fred, ever the showman, stepped forward, his grin widening into that familiar mischievous smirk. “Because that hex wasn’t meant for Harry,” he said nonchalantly, as if he were revealing some trivial detail of a harmless prank.
Hermione blinked, her mind stuttering as the words hit her like a bucket of cold water. “What?”
Fred didn’t seem to care that he’d thrown her off. He continued with that same cocky grin, never losing his swagger. “It was meant for Ron,” he added, as if he were casually discussing the weather. “A bit of revenge, you see. For making you cry the other night.”
Her mouth opened, then closed, and then opened again, as the information processed in her mind. It took a moment for her to fully grasp what Fred had just said. She had spent the last three days stewing over their recklessness—distrusting their motives, fuming at their inconsiderate antics—and now they were telling her it had all been some misguided attempt to ‘avenge’ her? Her brain just couldn’t seem to reconcile it.
“That— that is the most idiotic, immature, utterly ridiculous thing I have ever heard!” she burst out, her voice rising with each word. “I don’t need you two interfering with my problems, least of all by throwing pranks around like hexes! What on earth made you think—”
But before she could finish her tirade, her words were abruptly cut off.
One moment, she was full of fury, mid-sentence, her face flushed with indignation—and the next, everything she had been about to say vanished entirely in the overwhelming sensation of Fred's lips on hers.
It was as if the world stopped spinning.
His kiss was firm, confident, and completely unexpected. It was a sharp contrast to the anger that had been surging through her just moments before. Her breath hitched in surprise, her mind short-circuiting as she stood frozen, unable to move or even think. The intensity of it left her breathless, and for a moment, she couldn’t do anything but feel the shock of it rippling through her.
And just when she thought she couldn’t possibly be more stunned, Fred pulled away slowly—giving her no time to recover. Before she could even process the first kiss, George, who had been standing quietly beside them, stepped forward. He placed his hand gently on the side of her arm, leaning in as he replaced Fred in the same smooth, practiced motion. His kiss was slower, lingering, and more deliberate, like he was savouring the moment and daring her to push him away.
But Hermione didn’t. Her mind, still reeling from the shock, couldn’t seem to gather itself enough to react. Instead, she stood there, completely stunned by the way their kisses made her feel. There was no resistance, no push to shove them away. It was like all the anger, the frustration, and the fire she’d been holding in for days had melted into something else entirely—something raw, something that was too tangled to be easily understood.
When George finally pulled back, she was left staring at them both in complete silence, her body still humming with the sensations of what had just happened. Her lips tingled as if they were still feeling the press of their mouths against hers, and for a moment, it was all she could focus on.
Fred’s voice, low and soothing, broke through her daze. “There now,” he murmured, brushing his thumb gently across her cheek as if to calm her, “That’s much better.”
Hermione blinked rapidly, her heart hammering so violently in her chest that she was sure they could hear it. Her breath was unsteady as she tried to process what had just happened. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, utterly at a loss for words. “What—” she finally managed, but she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
George, who was still smirking slightly, reached out and brushed his fingers over her wrist in a completely nonchalant manner, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired. “We figured since you were already furious at us, we might as well make it worth our while,” he said smoothly, taking a small step back, but still keeping an eye on her, as if awaiting her reaction.
Hermione’s mind took another moment to catch up with the madness of what had just unfolded. She opened her mouth again to shout at them, to demand an explanation, but before she could get a word out, the outrage that had been simmering inside her flared up again—this time, hotter and fiercer than before.
“You— you absolute menaces!” she nearly shrieked, her fists clenched so tightly she was sure her nails were digging into her palms. “You— you cannot just—” Her voice broke, her breathing quickening, her pulse racing.
Fred grinned, his expression almost too pleased with himself. “Oh, we absolutely can,” he said, his voice full of that maddening arrogance she had grown all too familiar with.
George, standing just behind Fred, winked at Hermione, his mischievous grin still firmly in place. “And we did,” he added, his tone full of teasing confidence.
Hermione was utterly exasperated, her face now burning with a combination of fury and embarrassment. She turned on her heel, desperate to escape before she completely lost her composure. “I am going to hex the both of you into next week,” she warned, her voice sharp, the words biting with irritation.
Fred chuckled softly, as though he had already won some battle he hadn’t even fought yet. “Totally worth it,” he muttered under his breath, clearly satisfied with the results of his chaos.
George nudged Fred, his smile turning sly. “Told you she’d be cute when she raged.”
Hermione groaned loudly in frustration, her hands flying to her burning face in embarrassment, as she walked briskly away. She was absolutely certain she would never survive tutoring these two ever again, especially not after this... disaster.
As she made her way toward the door, still mortified, Fred and George shared a glance, clearly entertained by her reaction. The twins had done what they did best—disrupted everything and left Hermione both infuriated and undeniably flustered in the process.